Monster Hunter: Memento Mori
by Nera113
Summary: In a village long gone, protected by hunters of an age past, a boy lives in the shadow of his family's legacy. In a recounting of part of his life and the fate of his village, a forgotten hunter lives on.


Memento Mori

I still remember the day everything about my life changed: It was late summer, just before the harvest season would begin. It had been a great planting season. The weather had been just perfect- hot (the perfect excuse for a trip to the mountains) but not unbearable and _just_ enough rain to make the crops grow. The Felynes said the harvest would be perfect for the village's hunters. Like my father and sister.

It's hard to remember every detail about them; so I try to remind myself of what they look like as often as possible. I can still remember their faces, tanned from the long hours spent outside. Our family's trademark green eyes tinted with golden specks shinning even in the faintest of light. Dad had short, light, curly, auburn colored hair, and my sister (Emily) had long straight hair as yellow as the sun. Emily had the softest complexion (so that she could charm the monsters as well as she charmed the men, my friends told me) while Dad had scars left from furious encounters with the creatures beyond our tiny village.

Most of the time, I'm reliant on what others tell me about them. My friends used to love to tell me stories about them-And I loved to hear them. One of my favorites was the story of how my father and sister drove off a mated pair of wyverns. All by themselves! Apparently, the pair had made a nest deep in the caves located near the fields. So, Dad planted tainted meat near one of their watering holes. And wouldn't you know it, they actually ate it. The meat had a powerful sleeping agent in it (grown in the village's own farm), and it worked perfectly. As the two slept, Emily crept into their nest. And stole their eggs! As you can imagine, the wyverns were not pleased; they say, when the sleeping beasts awoke, their screams split the earth and shattered the sky.

Now I'd never seen one of these creatures before, but my friends assured me it was a terrible sight to behold. They said it stood on two powerful dinosaur like legs, with its feet ending in wicked black claws-supposedly capable of secreting a fatal poison. Its body was reptilian like, covered in thick, dark blood colored, scales along the top half, while the lower half's scales were smoother and slightly softer. Dark colored shapes ran across the underside of its body and arched across the thin membranes of its wings. It had large bat like wings, almost the same color as the scales except for the thin skin that makes up the majority of the wing, which are a light shade of brown. A long tail, ending with some bony club like formation with spikes, gave it terrifying balance as it runs, and they said a blow from the tail could shatter every bone in a man's body. Its neck was long and serpent like, ending with its menacing head. A crest of scales had formed across its head. Of all the features, my friends tell my its eyes are the most striking. Blue, with a yellowish-gold iris. "The color of a slumbering king," my grandmother always told me. Its mouth had a sharp beak like hook to it and was filled with armor rending and flesh shredding fangs; it could even launch fiery projectiles from its mouth. Capable of melting even the greatest metal.

But, Dad had a plan. The pair were much too dangerous to face head on (as I would learn later on), but he might just stand a chance if he could split them up. So he set a trap. First, he baited the male wyvern to him. Dad had hoped he could weaken the creature tainted meat again, but the same trick didn't work twice-it appeared they were capable of learning. While the female remained near the river, the male followed my father's scent to a small alcove near the caves surrounding the nest.

Dad knew that of the two, the male would prove more difficult, but he wasn't worried. The village elder had long told stories of the parental instincts of these creatures. If Dad could get the female to become distressed enough, the male would go to her aid. All he needed to do was survive long enough for the trap to catch her attention.

Dad had tied the stolen eggs to rafts and arranged for Emily to let the eggs float slowly down the river. Dad believed the stories our village scouts had told the elder: every day the pair made a routine stop at the river; he believed the female would follow the eggs if they were floated down the river. He thought that if they went far enough the pair would abandon the old nest and search for another.

As the story goes, Dad fended off the male with only a sword and shield. The villagers told of his heroic strength in withstanding blow after furious blow from the angered creature. Dad only lashed out on occasion, inflicting mere glancing blows. The village elder told me he held the wyvern out for several hours before the eggs caught the attention of the female as she patrolled the river. Her cries off frustration drew the male's attention; and according to the tales, the pair spent the better part of t he day attempting to retrieve their eggs from the river.

On one of the rare occasions they were both home, I mentioned the story.

" Why not just kill them? You had the perfect opportunity".

"I could have but, what is the point of killing something like that? The village has plenty of weapons, armor, food and supplies, we have no need for more carcasses. Besides, by the time we got around to using it, it'll have already gone to waste-better to let a village's hunter who really needs the kill to have the honor," Emily said, barely turning away from her workbench.

** "**Besides," Dad said, stroking his chin as he absentmindedly checked his tools. "it's not the hunting season; the ancestors watch over and bless our crops during this time, and we allow the creatures of the land to grow so that they may become a finer hunt."

I have to admit, I was jealous. I was the last of my family's bloodline, and the village elder had forbidden me from joining in the hunts. I was no exception-long ago, entire tribes had been wiped out when the entire family were killed during a hunt. As such the youngest were always forced to stay at home. Those of us who couldn't hunt learned how to manage the village: run the shops and guilds, forge the weapons and armor, and create powerful medicinal items. We were taught how to manage the hunter's tasks and assess what hunts they would be prepared for, along with what the village might need at the given time. And the elder made sure we understood how to haggle with traveling merchants. Who were the only source of foreign goods.

On _occasion_, we were able to leave the safety of the village from time to time; the elder believed it important to allow us to witness the world beyond the village, so that we might make wiser decisions about the hunting conditions. Leaving the village was something I always looked forward to, especially when Dad and Emily were part of the small band of hunters protecting us. It was one of the few times I was really able to speak to them for any length, even if it was about the surrounding environment.

I remember one time in particular: we were passing through the low lands, which lay in the shadow of a huge mountain. I recall being awestruck as my eyes gazed at the loaming, pristine white mountain tops far in the distance, contrasting strongly against the dark black stone. I could hardly believe we really intended to climb all the way up, but Emily assured me of its importance: "High atop the mountain grows a rare herb; the herb can be used to relieve pain and according to some even increase the body's own healing process," she informed me, as we set up camp near a small lake."Not to mention, the hunting is good here this time of year; it would be a good idea for us to get our share before the big predators start showing up. And several of our villagers let their pack animals graze near the top-we have to make sure they're still ok."

The next morning, Emily dragged me off to view the mountain. Dad and the others decided to hunt and scout the surrounding low lands. I was shocked when I first entered the caves-although the village had been peaceful, it was never quiet. The constant bustle of villagers, going about their daily lives. fishermen, merchants, small children, hunters, especially the sounds of the animals-these were the noises that made up daily life back home. But the caves were hauntingly silent. Each step Emily or I took in the soft snow that covered the cave's floor seemed to echo off the walls and into the darkest reaches for an eternity. Occasionally, ice that had been frozen to the cave's walls would break and fall off, shattering against hard stone or landing softly in the snow. A sure sign of spring's arrival.

I'll never forget the experience at the top of the mountain, once we finally reached it. I was chilled to the bone-the clothing I had been dressed in was fine for the village, but here I was shaking.

"Look!" Emily pointed towards a dark shape, sprawled across an even higher point on the mountain. "That's the discarded skin of an _Elder Dragon_. It happens when they reach a certain point in their lifecycle."

I strained to see what Emily was talking about, but the wind changed direction stirring up the once resting snow. As I gazed at the discarded skin sprawled across the rocks, a shiver ran down my back; it was huge: almost the size of our huts in the village. The mere thought of facing such a creature made me weak-one swipe of its claws and I'd be dead. On Emily's suggestion, we decided it was time to return to the camp. I for one was glad.

It was pretty late when Emily and I returned from our little trip. Most of the group had already settled in for the night, only the advanced scouts were still up. As we passed by a small group of hunters, one of them looked up.

"Look who finally got back. For a second, I thought the two of you might have eaten by something," a smirk creeping across his lips as he said it.

"That's impossible. Not even _The Black Dragon_ could kill Emily; she takes after her father."

"True enough. Although I wouldn't mind the opportunity to test my luck against it. It's a shame the creature's nothing but a legend," Emily said as we continued to our tents.

Slipping inside, I was overcome with fatigue. I crawled into the bed that had been made for me. (A sleeping bag made of Kelbi and Anteka fur. Incredibly warm and soft.) Letting out a sigh of comfort, I looked around the tent. It had been so long since the last trip from the village, I had forgotten what Dad and Emily brought with them. Closet to the entrance were field supplies, locked inside a chest. Most of these items were intended to treat injuries, provide rations while on the move, or combat the worse conditions of nature itself. They had only recently started locking the boxes. There had been reports that Melynx who were curious bipedal cat like creatures who often took whatever they could get their paws on had been taking supplies from hunters. Although many of them like their close relatives, the Felynes often interacted and worked alongside people, an increase in their population had lead them to less than savory pastimes. As I drifted on to sleep, I recalled a conversation I had once overheard in the village between merchants:

"I'm telling you," one of the merchants had said, pointing several times towards another villager." The hunters are too good. According to my estimates, the monster population has dropped off sharply."

"And? What of it? Business has never been better. This village couldn't have possibly survived with simple gathering and crafting. The materials the hunters bring back, coupled with the fame their stories bring, have brought us great fortune. I don't see a problem."

"That's the problem," said the third merchant. You don't see the problem. At some point, the monster population will die out, if things continue. Not to mention, the animals they prey on will increase well beyond the land's capacity. Already, the Melynx are having trouble finding work in the villages because there are so many of them. They've become an increasingly common sight , and they're starting to cause damage or steal the hunter's possessions, which is costing us."

"I don't see how that's a problem. After all, if the hunters are losing items, they'll have to buy more from us. That seems like a greater opportunity for profit to me. And if the Melynx are having trouble finding work, they'll have to accept whatever conditions we set.

"Fool! said the first villager slamming his foot down. " If the hunters are losing their supplies, how do you expect them to kill anything? Or at least anything worthwhile. How much profit will you be making when your back to selling Popo organs? We've become completely dependent on the hunters. Not to mention, it's not just the Melynx; other prey animals are becoming more and more common-at this rate, there isn't enough vegetation for both them and our cattle."

I was a little lost as to the importance of their discussion. After all, so long as the hunters were there, nothing could ever go wrong. But all of that was long ago, before my life changed. Now I look back and wonder how things could have changed so quickly.

Like I mentioned, it was just before the harvesting season. Dad and Emily had undertaken a hunt and were due back in a few days, to help with the harvest. The village's excitement was high. Not only was it looking like a good harvesting season, but word about the latest hunt was good. It had been a special request. Some wealthy elder or something had requested aid from every able bodied hunter in the land, and Dad and Emily had accepted. There were rumors surrounding the hunt. Travelers told tales of a giant black dragon, that burned everything in its wake. They said even the greatest weapons in the world couldn't pierce its pitch black hide. Some even whispered, behind closed doors, that it could only be the dragon of legend. I didn't care. Dragon of legend or not, my family could handle it. Besides, I was anxious to hear about the hunt; it was the furthest anyone from the village had traveled, as far as I knew. Not to mention, it would have been great to see Dad and Emily again. I had wanted to share the good news with them: the village elder had finally allowed me and a few others to practice with the spare weapons. _Weapons. _I'd been so excited when I'd first heard the news; at first, I tried to conceal my excitement, but that only lasted a few minutes. It wasn't long before I was running all over the village sharing the news with everyone who would talk with me, with mostly positive reactions. Some people were excited and encouraged me to practice every day, others just smiled and congratulated me, and some people just shook their heads: "Just what this village needs: another hunter," said one elderly woman after I told her the good news. "These days, more and more of our people are going out on hunts, because of the stories and supposed glory-we never hear from them again. At this rate, the native people will all die out, and the entire population will be comprised of outsiders." But it didn't matter to me; Dad and Emily were returning home, and I was one step closer to being able to relate to them. After I'd finished informing the _entire_ village, I returned home to wait for their arrival. To pass the time, I jumped around, swinging my arms in a wild fashion as if I was a fierce hunter facing some dangerous beast. I'd imagine I was the only hunter left of the original hunting party, the rest killed by the monster. And it was all my responsibility to kill the beast and bring back what I could. I could see them now, all the villagers gathered together to celebrate my victory, even Dad and Emily. Either from all my imaginary fighting, the laps around the village or a combination of both, I fell asleep much sooner than I expected.

The next thing I knew, the sensation of rising heat met my skin, the sounds of the village's buildings collapsing as the fire burned through them, the taste of thick heavy putrid smoke choking me, the sounds of humans and animals alike crying out in terror, only to be cut short, and the stench of death. I leapt to my feet, but my mind was in a haze. What was going on? Last I could remember, I was waiting for Dad and Emily. But now, my mind struggled to make sense out of the moment. Fear and panic kicked in. I had to escape-get out and find help! Charging forward, I pushed through the door of my home. Or what was left of the door, fire had consumed most of it. I was so obsessed, the flame's touch didn't even faze me. Outside wasn't better: the heat coming off the burning buildings was painfully intense, and the smoke was so black it blended in with night sky, as it rose towards the heavens, blotting out every light. On the one hand, the fires were so intense, I could see the entire village; on the other hand, the intensity of the flames forced me to repeatedly look away, just long enough for my eyes to recover. Down by the docks, I could see people crowding each other as they tried to climb into the boats. Some of them weren't waiting. They leapt, or were pushed, into the water.

Then, I heard it.

The sound of what surely had to be one monster cut through the noise. It was so loud, I had to cover my ears to block it out, and it caused such pain that I forced to kneel. When the cry ended, I pulled my hands away from my ears. I tried to located the source, but it had been so loud! As if the heavens themselves were the ones responsible. At one point, though I can never be sure, I thought I saw the shape of a huge dragon, flying across the village. But it was too dark to tell for sure, and whatever this thing was it blended in with the darkness that was consuming the village. I had to find my family-surely Dad and Emily could gather the other hunters and deal with this threat. It wasn't too late. Or they could handle this threat themselves. Whatever the case, I had to locate them as soon as possible; the survival of the entire village rested on it. I was fairly sure they hadn't been at home when I awoke. I hoped not. It would have been terrible if I had rushed out here to save myself, leaving them to perish in the flames. I decided to check near the armory; we had stockpiled weapons and supplies there, for just such an event. It would be great: I'd find them there, and together we could fight the attacker. I'm not sure how long it took me to reach the armory.

Normally, the path there is straight forward. but tonight, the road was covered in debris, fire, and bodies. I kept as close possible to the original path, but often times had to make detours around the destroyed buildings. Sometimes, the flames would flare up, as if to catch me off guard. Other times, the scent of death or smoke threatened to overwhelm me; I felt as if I might collapse at any moment. Finally, I reached my destination, but I was not prepared for what awaited me: the entire hunting party lay scattered on ground, as if they were child's toys carelessly tossed aside. And I knew these hunters would never move again. Their bodies were _almost_ burnt beyond recognition, their weapons and armor fused to each other and the bodies in some sick artistic fashion. If it wasn't for the fact that I had grown up seeing them, I would never have known who they were. But, Dad and Emily weren't with them. That much I was sure of. I wasn't going to stopped looking for them, even if I only found their remains. With a sigh of regret, I said good-bye to the fallen hunters and charged back towards the center of the village.

I never found Emily; and it wasn't until dawn broke that I found my father. He was near the largest group of homes in the village-I could only imagine he had been trying to get the people out of the village as fast as possible. If I hadn't seen his arms sticking out from under a pile of rubble, I wouldn't have found him. At first, I had tried to drag him out from under the rubble, but it was a futile effort. He was pinned under the housing materials, and I wasn't going to risk pulling any harder. Instead, I began to pull off each piece, one at a time, hoping to remove what had him trapped.

When I finished the sun was high over ahead, but the fires were only just beginning to die out. I wasn't successful: The last few pieces of rubble were enormous, and I didn't have the strength to move them. At first, I thought he was dead. But then he stirred. At first, it was nothing more than a few weak hacking coughs. But then, he opened his eyes and looked at me. His face was scarred even more than before. Blood tricked from his mouth, eyes and ears. His skin and hair had been burned badly; he was almost bald. The light in his eyes, flickered in and out, and, for a moment, it felt like I had been mistaken.

Struggling, he pulled his sword and shield out from under the debris and gave them to me. And then, he told me something that I carried with me from that day on:

"_Remember that all life must one day die for we are all mortal_." Then, he was gone.

-From the Memoirs of a Forgotten Hunter


End file.
